A: A squidge could be called an apprentice cotton classer.

The various cotton companies have their own interpretations and codes, but yesterday's squidge could give you the meaning of: "Good Middling," "Strict Middling," "Middling," "Strict Low Middling," "Low Middling," "Strict Good Ordinary," "Ordinary," and "Dog."

The cotton business has changed drastically over the years, and today's practices would have to be reserved for future discussion. But there was a time not so many years ago that any person ambitious to succeed in the cotton business must first learn to class cotton. It was not a matter of option; it was a requirement.

Pete Coleman is a former Southeast Missourian now living retired in Cordova, Tenn. Pete bought cotton for a number of years in the Bootheel, and spent his entire business career in the cotton business. He was a squidge for Anderson-Clayton & Co.

Now C.P.A., Kennett resident, Gerry Gamble, was a squidge for Anderson-Clayton. Gerry spent nine years as a cotton buyer.

Retired Kennett school teacher, Sonny Burns, was a squidge for Allenberg Cotton Co., Memphis Tenn.

Entrepreneurs, Ted Gargus & Ben Byrd, were squidges for Allenberg, and went on to form the Gargus-Byrd Cotton Company in Kennett.

The squidge started at notoriously low wages. Their immediate value was easily replaceable. It was potential that counted. They had no formal training for classing cotton, because the professional had little time to educate these novices. The squidge acquired his knowledge by empirical learning, or practical experience. It was the possibility of a bright future that encouraged ambitious people to stick out the apprenticeship; to become a cotton classer, and advance in the business.

Cotton has always been bought and sold on the basis of samples -- approximately a one pound sample cut out of a bale.

Eventually these samples are packed in trays -- twenty five to thirty per tray. These samples are then presented to professional cotton classers -- one to establish grade, and another to measure staple length. It was the squidge's routine work to deliver these samples to the classers and then repack them once the classifications were made.

What the squidge did after that was far from routine, and depended primarily on the proper use of his own time.

Smoking was prohibited in a classing room because lint floating in the air could be ignited and cause an explosive fire. During "smoke breaks," or using part of their lunch hour, the squidges would gather around tables of cotton that had already been classed and tagged.

Their first step was to turn the tags over to the blank side. Then they would open a cotton sample to study color, brightness, preparation, or leaf content.

The next move was to tear off a fist full of cotton and began gradually pulling off strands of fiber until they had a distinct pattern that could rest on the hand or arm for examination of staple length. The pattern was then allowed to drift nonchalantly to the floor. This eye-on scrutiny judged staple length to minute -- almost imperceptible -- detail.

The squidges then turned over the tag to see how their judgment compared with the long time professionals.

The ability to class cotton didn't come overnight, and it was only after many hours of testing his skills that the squidge gained a belief in himself, and the confidence of his employers, to enter the higher offices of the cotton business.

Cotton, from the fields, to the gins, and into the open market has always been a colorful business.

Like "wild catters" in the oil fields the cotton business is replete with legendary individuals who have made fortunes in a short while, only to face disaster in the next season. The stories are endless about the ups and downs of men in the cotton business. Whatever the status or condition, it is a business where timidity has no value, and boldness is a requirement.

A Southeast Missouri cotton grower could talk indefinitely about the risks involved in farming: pricing, weather conditions, insect control, updated machinery, etc., etc.

Like the farmer, the cotton merchant is often subject to risk -- some beyond his control, and some that depend on a man's ability to judge market conditions and the quality of cotton.

The old time squidge might be considered in the same realm as a pony express rider, or the village blacksmith, but there was a time when the squidge was vital to the future of the cotton trade.

Beyond the cotton fields, and the gins, were the cotton classers, and their squidges.

The Answer Man will appear on occasion in the Daily Dunklin Democrat, and will provide answers to various and sundry questions about local people, etc. Readers are invited to submit their queries to The Answer Man by e-mailing them to bhunt@dddnews.com.